Of Fairytales and Fezes
by MoonlightWriter101
Summary: Rory has been erased from existance, and The Doctor is the only one who can bring him back to heal Amy's saddened heart. It's just The Doctor and Amy again as they continue their travels. Feelings are being increased as the Doctor tries to revive Rory back into existance before things get too far. But, what happens after Big Bang Two when Rory is back, but their relationship fails?
1. Don't Stop Believing

**Disclaimer, yo: **Nope. I'm sorry. I don't know Doctor Who, nor will I probably ever will. This is just a fanfiction for the Eleven pairing that I love most~ Yes. That's right! The Eleventh Doctor and Amelia Pond. But, in no way do I own them, any other fabulous characters from Doctor Who, or the series itself.

**Shh, Spoilers: **Yes, as River Song says - "Spoilers.". This fanfiction may also contain them if you haven't watched all of the series. Read at your own risk.

**Author's Note: **Okay, aside from all of the boring, automatic stuff you just read above, this is a lovely little story that's based around the Fifth Series{and maybe, in the near future, Sixth, and onward} series of Doctor Who. Be warned that this IS my first Doctor Who fanfiction with the Eleventh Doctor, and that I'm not as great with writing him as I am with Ten{and GOD KNOWS how many fanfictions and roleplays I've done with the gorgous Tenth Doctor . . . yes, yes. Still need to put said Whovian fanfictions up on here and finish anime/manga others that are waiting for updates, too… I've have been lazy, point blank. Sorry for the those of you who are growing tired of slow updates..}. So, yes! Fair warning to all of you that I may be out of character, but I'll try the best that I can, and will TRY to update faster than I usually do. Thanks for reading this if you didn't skip to the story already{which, I bargain, half of you will}. And now, may I present to you. . . Of Fairytales and Fezes. Enjoy. =-)

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They sat on the long seat of the TARDIS, by the console. Just, orbiting in space. Joking and carrying on. Amy told of when she was a little kid, of her silly, whimsical, imaginary adventures. He cocked his head back and laughed, his green eyes shining despite of himself, despite how he truly felt. Amy, grown-up, nonsensical Amelia Pond, returned his happiness with her own fantastic smile. Little did she know she wasn't _really_ happy.

He could see it – he could see it through her features. It wasn't _true_ happiness, even if she thought it was. Something in her eyes, something in her smile, seemed sad. Always sad. Forever sad. As if the sadness within her was reaching out, trying to grab onto anything and anyone who would recognize it. Wanting to be acknowledged. It longed for its owner to see, to feel, to know _why_ such despair existed within her heart. But, as hard as she tried, as much as she wished she knew the cause of her abrupt tears or the overwhelming sorrow that washed over her every other night, she would never truly understand. Not until she remembered. Not until she remembered _him_. So, she pushed it aside and just seemed to think of it as nothing.

And this . . . this sadness that she unknowingly exhibited since the incident made him feel guilt. Guilt over Rory, whom he hadn't been able to save from the Crack that engulfed him and absorbed him. Guilt, because, as hard as he tried to make her remember, as hard as he tried to spark some sort of memory, Amy Pond might not ever truly remember her fiancé. And most of all, guilt towards himself. Most definitely towards himself. He had caused this. He had taken her with him, when he could have still left her in Leadsworth after the Atraxi. He had gotten Rory involved to improve the relationship between The Nurse and The Girl Who Waited. _He_ had done this to her, to Rory. And now? Rory might as well be possibly lost forever if Amy's memory of him never returned. And, they possibly would never be able to get married. To have the life that was normal. The life they _should_ have. It was The Doctor's entire fault. And there were very limited things he could do to make up for it.

He felt pain for Amy. He really did. And, so, vowed to bring Rory back into existence for her. Not particularly because he wanted to – he tolerated Beak Nose, and thought of him as a sort-of mate, but wasn't that keen to bring him back, really. He mostly wanted to do it for her. Because she cared. Because she loved Rory. Her cries still echoed in that memory, those horrible screams . . . her desperate will to stay alongside her fiancé, despite her risk of being forgotten as well. The Doctor had to pull her away. He couldn't just stand there, and she wouldn't listen to him. She wouldn't budge. She was going to be absorbed. He hated the thought of losing her, losing another companion because he was selfish and lonely and daft. He couldn't just stand by and let her existence be erased along with Rory's.

Neither of them could have saved Rory once he had been shot. Neither of them was able to rescue him from the deadly Crack In Time. Rory was important to Amy – they had shared their whole lives together. They were engaged. And that's why . . . that's why the Doctor was going to save him. Whatever it took. Because, Amy's true happiness meant everything to him.

"Doctor?" Amy leaned in, bringing her beautiful face and fiery tresses into view.

The Doctor jumped, jostled from his thoughts. He could feel a slight blush kissing his cheeks as he looked over at her. She wore an annoyed expression.

"Are you even listening to me?" She asked, her tone bristled.

The Doctor gave her, what he thought, was a convincing expression of attentiveness, pushing away the blush the best he could. "Of course I am!"

She cocked an eyebrow in suspicion. "Yeah, right!" She stood up, placing her hands on the hips of her short skirt and narrowing her eyes. "What have I been talking about the last ten minutes then?"

The Doctor hopped up, deciding not to give into defeat, but ignore the question. Instead, he pranced around the TARDIS, pushing buttons and pulling levers.

"Alright… RIO! _Rio de Janerio_! River of January. Love the name – people in Brazil are so simple!" he rambled, trying to flee from her question the best he could.

Amy followed The Doctor around the TARDIS console, still as perceptive and suspicious as ever. "It's been two weeks since you promised to take me to Rio, and all of the sudden, you want to take me. I know you're hiding something from me, Doctor. 'Might as well come out and tell me!" She said, Scottish rogue strong in her voice. She crossed her arms to make a point of saying that she wasn't going to let him ignore her, and she wasn't going to be tricked. She wanted to know – he was definitely being a bit too nice to her. Van Gogh and now Rio? He was deliberately picking places and people she dreamed of seeing! She could tell something was up, and she was going to find out. One way or another.

"What makes you think I'm hiding something?" He asked, not really paying much attention. Still turning levers and knobs and things

Amy's face suddenly lit up with a daring glint. A mischevious smile spread over her lips. "Oooh. I see now." She said, victory ringing in her tone.

He glanced up at her, truly oblivious to what she was getting at. "What?"

"Taking me to all the places I like . . . not answering my questions about what you're thinking. The blushing. . . You're starting to _fancy_ me, aren't you?"

He could feel that stupid blush begin to creep over his features again. In a way, that was true. He was beginning to have feelings for Amy. Well, actually, not really. He had always somewhat fancied Amy. There was really a lot to like about her. But he could never voice them or directly show them. One, she was getting married. She loved Rory, and she belonged with him. Not some old Timelord who was lanky and strange and had already had the whole bit with Rose Tyler. It had taken forever to get over her, to accept that his Metacrisis clone really was the best thing for her. Not to mention Martha, who had fancied him and always felt second-best to Rose because he couldn't return her feelings. No. He wasn't going to be a 'Martha', nor was he going to cause an incidence to happen like that again. She only thought of him as her imaginary friend, as her hero. Amy couldn't have feelings for him, even if she joked with him about from time to time. Two, he was a Timelord for crying out loud! She was a human. He would live, regeneration after regeneration, and she would grow old and die. He was 907 years old. He had experienced things, and he knew how the universe worked. A relationship between the two would totally never work.

To her unfortunate triumph, he dismissed her comments, as well as that stupid blush, and denied them. "Okay. You're just taking it too far now. You're my friend – my companion, Amy. I'm just trying to be nice to you for a change! What's wrong with that?" He continued his way around the room.

That mischievous grin remained plastered to her lips. She continued to play 'follow the leader'. "Nothing. Except, you're taking me out on a _date_. Admit it Doctor, you like me _more_ than a friend." She inched closer to him, clasping his dangling hand in her own two, and smiling madly – knowing she was right.

Oh no. It was happening again. This wasn't right. This _really_ wasn't right. It couldn't happen again. The kiss he had experienced in her bedroom. That wonderful feeling of her lips against his... He had liked it until his reasonable mind had kicked in... No. _Don't think about that. _He mentally slapped himself. That could never happen again. He couldn't give in. Not now, not ever. He had to set things right, the way they were supposed to be. She was engaged to Rory. She was getting married to Rory. She was _in love_ with Rory. He had to make her remember.

He suddenly stopped what he was doing, one hand paused on a lever while the other rested in her hand. The Doctor kept his eyes on the console, unable to look at her. He was silent, and didn't reply to her, his expression turning slightly solemn. Okay, so he _was_ being too nice to her. But for a good reason. A reasonable reason. He felt responsible for her loss of Rory. For the loss of a memory she once cherished, and now couldn't even comprehend. He was seeking forgiveness, and some sort of redemption. He was apologizing, releasing the guilt, in his own way. Leave it to Amy to catch on without even realizing why he was doing it.

"Doctor?" She suddenly relaxed after a moment of silence. Her demands cut short on her tongue, and her victorious attitude dissipating a little. Something seemed to overcome him – like sadness or guilt. She suddenly felt a pang in her gut. Perhaps she had said something she shouldn't have.

He looked up, turning to her and meeting her gaze with his. His emerald eyes searched hers as he grabbed hold of her shoulders, wiggling free of her hands. He had to try. "Amy. Do you remember that time with the Silurans?"

She was taken aback for a second. Why would he want to know that? Her expression a bit baffled, she answered, "Yeah. They wanted to take over the Earth again. Why?"

He let his eyes bore into hers. Taking in her chocolate brown irises. "Amy, Amy. Tell me! Do you know who was with us?"

She stared back, confused. "I was with you. Doctor, there's never been anyone else with us." She stated. Was he going mad?

"No, no! Amy. Remember, Amy. Concentrate on what I'm saying. You_ have to remember_. You can't forget Rory forever! Remember!" He clutched her shoulders harder, determined. Wishing for her face to light up with some sort of memory. Some sort of recognition.

"Wh-What are you talking about? Remember who?"

"_Rory_, Amy! _Rory_! He's your boyfriend! Your-Your fiancé! Your soon-to-be Mr. Rory Williams Pond!" His voice was intensifying now. "Please _try to remember_!"

Tears welled in her eyes then. That mysterious sadness was taking over her again. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her heart ached, filled with hurt. With over-flowing sadness and despair and pain. But. . . _why_? "Doctor," She said through the tears, her mind trying to make sense of it. She put a hand up to her face, feeling the wet, yet familiar sensation of herself crying. "Why am I crying? Why… does this keep happening to me?" She asked, her eyes searching his in fear and confusion as she tried to understand.

The Doctor stared at her, his emerald eyes reflected relief because of a part of her remembering, but his face portrayed otherwise. He cupped her face in his hands, sighing, with evident regret on his face. "Oh, Amy Pond. . . I'm sorry. I am really, really sorry." How could he have done this to her? He should have looked after Rory better. It should have been _him_ that had been shot. At least, he would have regenerated. And Rory would still be alive and well within the universe of time and space. But, no. He had to stand there and watch her cry while she suffered over the cause of it. He hated it. He hated every second of it. He hated to see her cry. More than anything.

Then, he pulled her into a heart-felt hug, the trip to Rio now forgotten. "I'll make it right. I promise." He told her in her ear, bent on the declaration. He would find some way to reverse the effect. To bring him back to her life, to her memory. He swore it.

Even if. . . it meant sacrificing his own life. Even if. . . a part of him secretly didn't want to.

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**Read and Review**. Yes, please do. They're much appreciated! Especially since this my first ElevenxAmy story. ^^ Stay tuned for Chapter 2. Coming soon!


	2. Hold Onto That Feeling

**Disclaimer, yo: **Nope. I'm sorry. I don't know Doctor Who, nor will I probably ever will. This is just a fanfiction for the Eleven pairing that I love most~ Yes. That's right! The Eleventh Doctor and Amelia Pond. But, in no way do I own them, any other fabulous characters from Doctor Who, or the series itself.

**Shh, Spoilers: **Yes, as River Song says - "Spoilers.". This fanfiction may also contain them if you haven't watched all of the series. Read at your own risk.

**Author's Note: **Um, yes! Totally forgot. Let me include that my inspiration for this story derived from all of the wonderful fanfictions out there that focus on Amy and Eleven as a couple, particularly "The Girl Who Didn't Make Sense" and "The Girl Who Dreamed Of Stars" by FallOutGirl. I'd like to thank all of you who have written any AmyxEleven fanfic, for simply rooting the two. Also, I'd like to thank all of you wonderful readers out there who have started reading this and are reviewing. Afterall, I wouldn't have gotten to Chapter Two, or even have the muse to keep writing without you all. Honestly, I thought I was the only ElevenxAmy shipper until I started reading some of those fanfictions out there! Thank God! Anyhow, 'Just wanted to give credit where it was needed, fore yall's stories and reading have given me the most influence to conjure up the idea for this story and make it a reality{this should probably be at the end. In the credits. When I finally finish... I know, I know. I'm a bit daft. But I'm forgetful, so I'm puttin' it here and you're gonna deal with it rather nicely.. you'll probably see it at the end, too.} =-) And oh, don't you go off stealing anything, fore I'm not stealing. **gives you a stern look** The Tenth Doctor will back me up with his sonic, and don't think that Amy won't kick you if you tend to try theft. . . Anyhow, just needed to get that out there. Time to read, yeah? Have at it! XD

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_Then, he pulled her into a heart-felt hug. "I'll make it right. I promise." He told her in her ear, bent on the declaration. He would find some way to reverse the effect. To bring him back to her life, to her memory. He swore it._

_Even if . . . a part of him didn't want to. Even if . . . it meant sacrificing his own life._

A few moments of silence passed, and they were still embracing. Amy wiped her tears off on the shoulder of his tweed jacket, finding herself grinning despite what had just happened. She recognized the familiar smell of TARDIS oil and jammy dodgers. She let a small giggle escape her lips at a sudden thought. "Doctor?"

He was oblivious to just how long he had been hugging her, enjoying the familiar scent of petrichor and lavender that emanated from his companion. "What?" He asked, also finding a grin forming upon his lips.

"Is there a reason you're still hugging me?" She asked teasingly, smiling knowingly.

He suddenly parted from her, viewing her at arms' length with a gleeful glint. "Oh, Amelia Pond. There's always a reason to hug you!" He gave her a confused look. "Why?"

She raised an eyebrow, allowing that knowing smile to spread even wider. "Maybe you could hug me a different way next time. . ." She insinuated playfully, wrapping her arms around his neck.

The Doctor gulped, now realizing what she was implying. "A-Amy, no." He said firmly. "Remember what we just talked about? Remember Rory?"

"Who needs him? Whoever you're wanting me to remember. . . I've never met him. And you know what? I think you're just playing hard to get." That mischievousness danced in her eyes again.

_Oh no. Now I've done it._ The Doctor chastised himself, slipping out from under her wrap. Nervousness began to wash over him. "No, Amy. Listen to me!" He said, backing away a little. "Stop it! You're engaged! To someone you don't remember! His name is Rory! He's been erased from your memory, from all of history, and everything! It's really complicated, and I'm trying to sort it out. . . and that-that's why you can't come any closer!" He paused, realizing what he was saying. "God, that _does _sound rubbish. . . I suppose I wouldn't believe me either."

As always, Amy didn't listen. She laughed and continued to approach him in her bold, confident, sexy way. "'Sounds like a cry for help to me." She winked.

_No. This isn't right. She's going to jump at me any minute. I've got to do something. I can't let her mess things up!_ He continued to run around the TARDIS, run away from her. "Um . . . okay. So you fancy me. Right. You're not supposed to fancy me, and I need to make you see that. . . but Rory's not here for me to make you see that . . . so I'll have to do this on my own. . . "

"Rory, Rory, Rory! That's all you talk about!" She suddenly stopped in her tracks, placing her hands on her hips as a sudden thought came to mind. "Wait," She gave him a shocked, confused, suspicious look. "Are you _gay_?" Somehow, that last part seemed like déjà vu'. But she didn't know why. Had she said that someone before? She didn't think so.

The Doctor stopped as well, staring at her and seeing this as an opportunity. He could finally get her to stop chasing after him. He could finally have her believe that he wasn't interested in her.

But then, of course, _he_ jumped in before the Doctor could falsely validate Amy's suspicions.

_Don't be so daft! This is your chance, Doctor. Your chance to finally be with her and have that feather-headed, beak-nosed brain out of the way. It certainly wasn't this hard for you to go after Elizabeth I, and she's the bloody queen!_

Of course. The Dream Lord. The darkest part of his mind.

_No. No! _The Doctor argued. _That's not how it works. I am NOT going to mess things up again. This is my chance to make things right. To make her happy. I'm going to get Rory back for her. She loves Rory. Besides, Liz. . . was a mistake. It just sort of happened._

_No, you liked Liz. And Cleo. And may I remind you of Rose, too? Don't pretend with me, Timelord. I know you better than anyone, _his darker self replied. _You've seen Amy's dreams, Doctor. You know about her secret desires. She may put on a good show, but you really know where her heart lies. And it's not with Rory. She still wants you. Always has. Why do you think she's gravitating towards you now?_

The Doctor grimaced in self-loathing, his jaw tightening. He had, in fact, witnessed her dreams. He knew she still had a crush on him, even when Rory had been in existence and traveling with them. She still _dreamed_ about the Doctor. But he also knew she had dreams about Rory, too. Dreams that, now, she couldn't remember. She was caught between the two of them. _Her two boys_, she had once said. And he was going to help her choose the right one. Her and Rory - they belonged together. They could spend their lives together because they were both human. They'd grew up together. It was wrong for the Doctor to interject, to have feelings for Amelia when she had a much better choice waiting for her.

_She's only coming to me because Rory's not here_, The Doctor told his darker self. _If it wasn't for Rory's disappearance, none of this would be happening. She needs him back in her life to see that I'm not the one she really wants._

_Let go, my friend. Stop trying to persuade yourself,_ prompted the Dream Lord. _You fancy her. You think she's sexy. She's standing right there . . . so, go get her, tiger. Rory's not here anymore. There's nothing but your daft beliefs and cheesy stubbornness stopping you now. This is your time to shine. To make your feelings known. To finally be her man._

Amy crossed her arms, growing impatient with the Doctor's lack of reply, and coming to her own conclusion, taking the Doctor's silence for speechlessness. "Seems like I've finally cracked the Oncoming Storm," She grinned in triumph. "I guess all these women you pick up are just to make you feel better about your secret, huh?"

The Doctor leered at her, his mind pushing away The Dreamlord for the moment, and barely making sense of her words. "What? No! I'm not gay, Amy. Stop coming up with ridiculous ideas!" He then realized what he had said, and innerwardly cursed himself and The Dream Lord for the previous distraction. Then, he quickly came up with a lie, a very good lie. He looked down, unable to look at her and tinkered with the TARDIS controls, "I'm sorry. But, actually, I have feelings for someone else. I didn't want to tell you. . ." He walked around the console slowly, setting the coordinates. But it hurt him to say it. To lie to himself was one thing, but to lie to her was another. He hated it. He really did, but he didn't have time to focus on that right now. He needed to get their relationship as "strictly best friends" back in progress. He couldn't ruin another couple's lives because of his own self-centred wishes as he had in his Tenth incarnation.

He glanced up to see her smug expression fall into awkward confusion. An expression of sadness and disappointment came over her face for a few seconds, but she wittingly hid it with her tone that sounded comfortable with everything and replaced her expression with a more neutral one. "I see." Only, she really was heart-broken. She had really, truly believed he had begun to like her this time. She should have known that The Doctor's actions weren't always fueled by what she thought they seemed to be. She knew, after that time in her bedroom, that the Doctor could never like her, could never really fancy her, even if he established some pretty convincing impressions. She now felt stupid for assuming, again, that her feelings might finally be recuperated. She sighed, and after a few more seconds, strolled over to take her seat beside the Doctor. _'Guess it's back to the 'friends'_ _wagon,_ She thought dryly. Still. She had to admit, it was better than nothing. And, if anything, he was still her imaginary friend that would always save the day.

"Anyhow," she began, breaking the silence that had begun to drive her mad. "Sorry about all that." She gave him a friendly grin and apologetic eyes. Though, on the inside, she felt like crying again. This time, she knew why, though, but she pushed the tears away effectively so she could to try and get back on track. "Back to Rio, then?"

It tugged and pulled on his two hearts to see her expression saddened, even if it had only been a few seconds and she had tried to hide it afterwards. But, he kept telling himself that he had no choice, and, even if her actions hadn't merely been her reacting on behalf of Rory's absence, that a relationship between the two of them would never work. It may be true that the Doctor had feelings for Amy, but he wasn't going to let them get in the way of his goal. And he certainly wasn't going to take the _Dreamlord's_ advice, no matter how right he had been about the Doctor.

The Doctor returned her smile, proud of her. She seemed to have taken his lie better than he thought she would have. He loved how, like Donna, she'd take anything and still be ready for whatever else came her way. How she was still willing to still trudge on, even if she didn't feel exactly up-to-beat about things. "Back to Rio." He agreed.

Then, he finally pulled the lever that sent them off into departure, and a very bumpy ride. "_Geronimo_!"

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**Read and Review. Or I will send Autons after you. **Sorry I didn't actually get to the part with Rio yet, guys. I planned to, but it just seemed like a good point to stop here in this chapter. Perhaps I should have combined this chapter with the first? I don't know. But, I do promise that Rio is coming soon. =-)


	3. If We Took The Holiday

**Disclaimer, yo: **Nope. I'm sorry. I don't know Doctor Who, nor will I probably ever will. This is just a fanfiction for the Eleven pairing that I love most~ Yes. That's right! The Eleventh Doctor and Amelia Pond. But, in no way do I own them, any other fabulous characters from Doctor Who, or the series itself.

**Shh, Spoilers: **Yes, as River Song says - "Spoilers.". This fanfiction may also contain them if you haven't watched all of the series. Read at your own risk.

**Author's Note: **Enjoy. This is just a bit of fluff, I think. I hope they're in-character enough. ^^;;

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"Wake up, moron!"

Something jolted him, a cold comparison to his warmed-up skin. A wetness that soaked his tweed jacket, made his TARDIS-blue speedos even harder to wear, and absolutely _ruined_ his matching bowtie.

The Doctor jumped out of the long beach chair he'd been lying in, stunned and suddenly stirred from what he had been doing. He raised the black shades up and on top of his now dark slick, messy hair in order to turn and glare at the instigator. The one and only Amelia Pond.

"What in the hell did you do that for?" He yelled, surprised, shaken, and downright confused about his companion's motives.

She stood before him in a red, polka-dotted bikini, one hand holding a silver pail at her side while the other posed on her hip. She gave him a pointed look. "_Somebody_ has to get up so you can have some fun." She remarked cleverly, Scottish thick. "What? You just want to lie around while we're in _Rio_?"

"I _was_ having fun!" He countered. "I was analyzing the skies and the humidity with my lenses! They have a thermal and infrared camera built in. They can tell the weather before it happens. They're _cool_." He slipped the shades down, back over his eyes to emphasize.

"Oh, take them off! You're worse than a weather man!" She said, her Scottish accent leaking into her words more than necessary. She quickly grabbed the shades from the Doctor and put them in her pail. "Why can't you just say you were asleep?"

"Hey!" He said childishly in turn to her stealing his black sunglasses. "Because I wasn't." He said in reply to her tiring question, eyeing her stiffly. Although, in reality, he really had been snoozing. "And you know something else? You messed up my _bowtie_." He straightened it and frowned at the moisture it had absorbed. "Now it's all soggy and damp and tight and uncomfortable! And it's your fault, Amelia Pond!" He pointed an accusing finger at her.

"So? Take it off, then! I would be happy to see that awful thing gone! I've been buggin' you to get rid of it since Day One."

He was taken aback, making a surprised face before composing himself rather quickly. "Never. Bowties are cool." He smiled, pulling on his tweed proudly and straightening the bowtie again.

Amy rolled her eyes. "oh, just c'mon." She ordered, taking his wrist, turning around and leading him towards the turquoise sea and across the warm, beige sand.

"You can't just start dragging me along! I have important business to get back to!" He argued, trying to pull his hand free from her grasp and suspecting spontaneous motives hidden in the ocher beauty. Well, he quite liked spontaneous . . . one of the things he loved about Amy Pond. But he couldn't be so sure that this wasn't another one of those promiscuous times she'd been having lately. He hoped he had set her straight. Although, now, he was starting to regret his earlier resistance to her advances, as his Timelord brain found its way to the 'regular bloke' section. In that bikini . . . he couldn't help his eyes trailing down her thin-framed body for a moment. A good few moments, actually. The swim wear fit her_ perfectly_. In all of the right places. Red was definitely her colour. Not only did it match her ginger locks, but it complemented her freckles and hazel eyes as well… Thankfully, her voice interrupted his peeping.

"Yeah, right," she muttered, wishing he'd admit it already that he'd been sleeping and stop trying to defy her. He didn't have anything to do, and she knew it. There were no aliens to investigate. No distress signals on the psychic paper or emergency telephone calls. And the weather was _fine_. He just wanted to wiggle away from her reach. Of course, It wasn't like she didn't know _why_. He had wanted to keep his distance ever since her lil' prowling episode. Every time she came close to him, he'd make an excuse to go some place or scurry as far away from her as possible. On the TARDIS, every time she'd come up beside him, he'd run 'round the console to the opposite side. He hadn't given her his regular 'goodnight' hug when he'd suggested they should rest the night before arriving here. When they'd landed, he had run out of the TARDIS very quickly and had specifically requested that she'd get dressed and go "splash around for a bit" before he did. And once she had, he had immediately gone to do get dressed in appropriate swim-wear himself and had promised to join her in the ocean afterwards. However, after thirty minutes, she came up on shore – knowing he had had no intention of joining her once-so-ever.

She was fed up with this game he was playing. He had made it crystal clear that there was no use in running after him, that he was infatuated with someone else. She understood that he was being cautious of her. She would have probably been cautious of herself too. But, promising her something and not doing it solely for the reason of ignoring her? No. That was _not_ going to fly by. She was going to have a talk with him and reassure him that she just saw him as her best friend. Nothing more. Even if she knew that was necessarily true. Actually, that wasn't true at all. She completely thought of him as her chivalrous Doctor, her imaginary friend that had come back for her. Her Doctor, who was handsome and sexy and always saved the day. Her Doctor, who understood her and (hopefully) trusted her like no one else, just like she understood and completely trusted him no matter what happened. Was it love? She didn't really know. But, oh, hell yeah was she was attracted to him . . . his nice body, that dark brown hair that was either always fabulously messy or nerd-gelled to the side, and those eyes… those gorgeous green eyes. And the feelings? Immense and sometimes so explosive it'd make her want to do all sorts of things with him. And, now, she would never get to, as she was bent on convincing him that he was just her best friend. Just so he would treat her normally again.

She stopped at a good point in the ocean, where it was equally up to their waists. Not too shallow, and not too deep. But, away from a lot of people who were playing, swimming, surfing, water-skiing, or jumping the waves. She released her hold and crossed her arms, giving him 'the look'(otherwise known as the look of accusation).

The Doctor rubbed his wrist, making a slightly pained face. And not just because his wrist was hurting either. "What did I do this time?" He wondered jadedly.

"You tell me." She smarted.

He frowned, already not liking the sound of her tone. "No," He told her sternly, automatically erasing his apathy. "You _tell me_, and I'll try to fix it."

She contemplated this for a moment, feeling like she should listen to him, but at the same time, wanting to stay defiant. Should she shoot another smart comment, or just blurt it out? She began to tap her foot out of frustration. It wasn't like anyone knew, of course. It was underwater.

"Amy," He said diligently, noticing the agitation in her features and stiffness of her shoulders. "Just tell me what's bothering you."

She stayed silent for another moment.

"It's okay, Amy. Just blurt it out like you always do."

To wait any longer would have driven both of them mad. So, she did. "You know that we're just friends, now, yeah?"

He seemed. . . unsure. But only for a fraction of a second. "Yeah. The best of friends." He grinned submissively, sounding the opposite of what he felt. For some reason, the grin didn't really reach his eyes. Of course, he knew he could trust Amy. But this was… unexpected. Hearing himself agree to it out loud when he knew he felt so much more than a friendship… it was strange. It was different when _he_ said it, when he proclaimed her as his best friend to her and everyone in the world. But now? It was different. He was not only lying to himself as was the case before, but lying to her face-to-face, and on so many different levels as well. About something important! About something. . . well, if she found out the truth, he didn't want to imagine her reaction – as least, not right now. Not at a time like this.

But, it wouldn't have been the first time he had committed such a crime as this. _Rule Number One: The Doctor Lies_. He always lied. Sometimes, even to himself. And that's the way it was. That's the way it had always been. The Doctor, his lies, and his companions. But it had _always_ been for a good reason. This time was no exception – he convinced himself it was for Rory's sake. For Amy's and Rory's marriage. But, yet, a part of him, a secret part of him, continued to question . . . was it really for Rory? Even, for Amy? Or, was he just trying to run away from the extremes and possible consequences of revealing his true feelings? Maybe it was both.

She raised an eyebrow, seeing the Doctor's insecurity when he hoped she wouldn't. She had caught onto his lie – but not the truth behind it, instead thinking he had just been saying that to get out of the figurative hole he was in. "Then, why have you been ignoring me?" Before he could reply, she jabbed an index finger close to his face and gave him a warning stare. "And don't say you haven't, mister! I know you're deliberately tryin' to stay outta my way." Her Scottish was heavy and accented again.

He eyed her finger critically. "Please. . . put that down. . . I really don't want to be scratched to death. . ." He solicited with a joking air, and then glanced back up at her consolingly, calmly, hoping she'd reconcile.

Instead, the unpredictable red-head took a few steps so that she was standing right in front of him and prodded her finger even closer to the Timelord's face, particularly his eyes. Her warning stare narrowed. "Tell. Me. Now." She growled.

"Okay, Okay," He held up his hands in defense, defeat, and surprise, and stepped one particularly large step back to beware of her finger. She could stab his eyes out with that polished red nail of hers, and she would do it too if he wasn't willing to 'fess up. He took a deep breath to ready himself, then apologetically said, truthfully, "I'm sorry, Amy. I've been avoiding you. I didn't want you to get all . . . you know. . ." He tilted his head back and forth, trying to fill in the gap of his left-out word. ". . _Cougar-y_." He substituted quickly.

Her finger didn't waver. Neither did her eyes or her raised eyebrow. But the look on her face did change from dangerous to suspiciously confused. "_Cougar-y_?"

"Yeah . . . you know . . . cougar-y." The Doctor replied uncomfortably, shifting his feet from his more-or-less pinned position. He looked for a way out. He could move around her and run to the beach, screaming 'Mad lady! 'The ginger mad lady's after me!', but the last time he'd done that, he'd somehow ended up behind bars of a jail in France and Amy had been the only one capable of releasing him because she had somehow actually became a _policewoman_(versus a kiss-o-gram policewoman), and he had gotten double the headache and shoe-throwing from her when they had returned to the TARDIS. He could always trick her, but didn't usually do that unless it was for her own good. He didn't have his sonic screwdriver, so he couldn't rematerialize the magical blue police box where he was standing. Rubbish thing – it didn't work in ocean water. His only true way of escape was talking his way away from Amy, but his former incarnation had been better than that than this new Doctor was. Still. He could try.

So, he continued with his explanation, albeit a very strange one as the Doctor does. "You know, with the _come here_ and the _I've got you_ and the _roar, Raggedy Doctor!_" He imitated a clawing motion, as if a cat would do, and then chuckled at himself a little after he was finished. "You see?"

Amy raised an eyebrow. "Finished?"

"Yeah."

"Was that supposed to be an impersonation of me?"

He opened his mouth, and then shut it. He cleared his throat. Then, opened his mouth again. This time, words actually came out. "N-No. That was nothing like you. _That_ sounded _nothing_ like you." He said nervously, pointing at her, trying to grasp onto something that wouldn't get him killed. He backed away slowly with each word.

She noticed, of course. "Stay there!" Her voice rose suddenly as she pointed at him warningly. He stopped where he was, a good foot away from her now. He clasped his hands together. Her voice became level again. "You're lying." She stated. She knew him like an open book.

He was confident this time. "Yes. Yes, I am. But you know what? That's not the point. _The point is_ . . . no more avoiding Amy Pond." He smiled.

She crossed her arms. "Promise?"

His eyes dazzled with reassurance, that wonderful grin sending the same message. "'Cross my hearts." Satisfied and feeling safe that he had escaped her wrath, he stepped forward, kissed her forehead, and gave her a big ole' hug.

They breathed in each other's scent, relishing the moment. The proximity was overbearing for the Timelord, wanting to snog her and play with her hair then and there. But he didn't. He couldn't. Not only did he see the Dream Lord smirking in his oceanic reflection as he peered out over Amy's shoulder, but it was all just. . . unrealistic. One, they had just made promises to be friends now, no matter what. Two, she was _technically_ taken, as he reminded himself of her waiting groom, Rory. And, three, there was always that imperious logistic reason hanging over him that a Timelord and Human simply would never be able to be _more_ than just friends.

Amy, too, felt their body's touching, which was somewhat relieving, but having her wanting for more. She wanted nothing more than to kiss him and cuddle up to him. But, she knew that the barriers had been set. There was no going past them now. And, at least, now, she knew they could be normal around each other again. She could hug him forever, but she didn't want to ruin the recently returned normalcy.

So, being her normal self, she thought up of something normal and Amy Pond-ish to release the tension. "You know what?"

"What?"

She pulled away from the hug and smiled. "You're impersonation of me is _horrible_." She laughed, shaking her head. "Don't _ever_ do that again."

"Really?" He gave her a surprised look, and grinned. "I thought I was pulling off as a rather believable _Amy Pond_ , if I do say so myself." He straightened his bow-tie, a usual emphasis that meant he was bragging on himself.

She laughed. He loved that laugh. Angelic and child-like at the same time. "You're a moron." She lightly punched him.

"And you're Scottish." He lightly punched her back.

"Wanna know something else?" She bit her lip.

He waited.

After a moment, she smiled deviously. Then, like the unpredictable Amy Pond she was, she splattered water in his face with a wipe of her hand through the sea.

"_Gotcha_."

* * *

**Read and Review. I might open up the Void. . .again. **Suggestions? Ideas? Comments? Corrections? Anything is welcome, really. Hope you liked this chapter. =-)


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